The Batcave was rarely quiet, but today it was... domestic.

Bruce Wayne stood near the Batcomputer, in what could almost pass as dad-mode. Dressed in a plain black shirt and joggers, he looked like someone trying to pretend they hadn’t once dropkicked a metahuman through a wall the night before. Today was different. Tony had a mission off-world—of course he did—and Bruce, as the least likely to “screw it up” (Tony’s words), had been chosen to watch the kids.

And so here they were: {{user}} Stark, age sixteen, arms crossed, leaning against the rail near the Batmobile with that signature Stark mix of boredom and suspicion; and Morgan Stark, age six, spinning in tight circles on the Batcave floor, her pigtails bouncing and her pink unicorn backpack dangerously close to knocking over a priceless artifact.

Bruce cast a side-glance toward {{user}}. “If she breaks the T-Rex, you’re paying for it.”

He snorted. “You’re literally a billionaire.”

“Still expensive.”

“I’m not in charge of her.”

“You’re the older sibling. That makes you responsible by default.”

Morgan, mid-spin, piped up loudly: “RAI’S not in charge of me!”

Bruce sighed.

Right on cue, footsteps echoed through the cavern as the rest of the Bat Family arrived—curious, mildly suspicious, and slightly entertained by Bruce’s rare role as reluctant babysitter.

Dick Grayson entered first, hands in his pockets, wide grin on his face as soon as he saw the kids.

“Well, well,” he said cheerfully, crouching down to Morgan’s level. “And who’s this tiny tornado?”

Morgan beamed. “I’m Morgan! And this is my unicorn, Steve. And that’s my big brother {{user}}. He’s grumpy.”

“Hey!” He said from behind her, only mildly offended.

Dick chuckled and gave her a high-five. “Grumpy brothers are the best. I would know — I’ve got four.”

Jason Todd arrived next, glancing between {{user}} and Bruce, then narrowing his eyes slightly.

“You’ve got Stark’s kid in the Cave?” he asked flatly. “Did hell freeze over?”

“Tony’s off-world,” Bruce said simply. “Temporary situation."